Category Archives: Travel

Hyundai – Never Again

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This tale of woe begins in October of 2015. I take my 2007 Hyundai Santa Fe into Maple Hill Hyundai for an oil change, and I learn about a service campaign, there is a recall on the Valve Cover Gasket for all Santa Fe’s like mine. Maple Hill performs the operation; I get a new gasket and a new alternator and the oil change. I drive away happy; everything is back to normal.

At the end of 2017, I start noticing some odd lights in my car, and generally odd behavior starting to crop up. I’ve got 130000 miles on the vehicle, so I figure that it’s cold weather and old age. The gas tank needle gets daffy, not registering full tanks of gas, so I use the trip-o-meter to measure out 200 miles and then fill up from there. I can adapt. Then on really cold mornings, I notice the battery light flickers for a little bit, alternating with the seatbelt light, but after a few minutes both go out. I drive it around, and everything is normal.

Then we went to Chicago, Illinois to C2E2. The Santa Fe loaded with suitcases and comic books, I drive it into the parking structure, and that’s that. We have a wonderful time in Chicago, and then we pull it out of the parking structure. I notice that the battery light and seatbelt light have started to blink, but then it goes away and I figure that it’s business as usual. I drop off my niece and her boyfriend at their car and then drive off. As I approach the highway, the battery light and seatbelt light continue to flicker. We get on I-94, headed back to Michigan, and right after we cross from Illinois to Indiana, the battery light is on. Then TPMS, BRAKE, ABS, AIRBAG, all the lights turn on and Check Engine comes on. Then the lights get dimmer and dimmer, and we roll into a Walmart parking lot.

I’m panicking. My car is dying, I’m 125 miles from home, and it’s late Sunday night. After I chill out in the Walmart, we get back to the car, and I turn it on. Check Engine is still on, but everything else is off, and the car is behaving like everything is fine. So we tool around the parking lot a few times, and everything remains fine. So I get on the highway again. We get 25 miles down the road, and then the battery light starts to blink. Then again, everything goes downhill. The car gradually slows down, until I’m pretty much just crawling along on idle speed, the gas pedal is hilariously worthless. We turn a few times and get right up to the parking lot of an Econolodge. All that is left is one tiny little lamp in the instrument cluster, and it’s half-lit anyhow. The car is fully dead. Transmission is stuck in everything but park, and so I get out, and with Scott’s help, we try to push the Santa Fe up the little incline to the parking lot of the Econolodge Hotel. A stranger appears out of nowhere and runs over and asks if he can help, and all three of us push the Santa Fe to the middle of the empty parking lot. I turn the car off, but the panic sets in again because I can’t put the transmission in park. I wait a few minutes and try to turn the car on, I get accessories to come on, and the transmission goes to park. I turn everything off and get a room at that Econolodge.

Now, here is where we place a mental pin in the tale, keep this spot in mind because what happens next is full of consequence.

I wake up the next morning, I don’t know what is wrong with my car, and my first idea is to see if I can find a repair shop. There are lots of auto dealers around, there’s a Kia, there is a Chevy, and a Toyota, but no Hyundai. So I figure I need some sort of shop, so I search Yelp for “auto repair,” and I find Adam’s Towing and Service of Porter, Indiana. I call them, reach Adam, and tell him what happened to my car. He suggests that it’s the alternator and I ask for a tow so he can work on it. The tow guy comes, super amazing fellow, and they get my Santa Fe on the skid and tow it away. I follow after in a rental car I picked up from an Enterprise location in Burns Harbor. We get to Adam’s shop, and they start working on it. I take the rental back to Kalamazoo and drop off everything; we get a call from Adam, my car is ready. He replaced the Serpentine Belt, and the Alternator and everything is back to normal. We get back, drop the rental car and pick up the Santa Fe and drive it back to Kalamazoo. Everything is back to normal. While talking to Adam, he asks if there was anything about motor oil with my car, because the alternator was soaked with oil and that’s why it died. I remember back to the service campaign that Hyundai performed and immediately do a Google Search, and many other people have had the gasket go out on them and struggle with Hyundai about repairs. So I’m thinking that’s what is going on with my Santa Fe. I go to Maple Hill Hyundai, and I learn that the job cannot be cleared because the leak is coming from the Timing Cover Gasket and that repairing that is a $1200 to $1600 process. For me, that totals the Santa Fe.

So then I start talking with Hyundai Corporate, talk to many people about my problem, and I believe that the problem is still the valve cover gasket. That motor oil that was inside my engine got outside and killed the alternator. I’d like my money back from the repair job, and I’d like someone to fix the gasket, just like Hyundai did in October 2015. Just like all those other Santa Fe owners who had this EXACT SAME PROBLEM.

So then, after being told that it wasn’t covered by Maple Hill, I reached out to another shop where I had my brakes done previously and brought it to them. The owner said “How do they know where the leak is, did they clean the side of the engine and run a dye test?” and the answer is no. While we had the hood open, he also pointed out that the plastic cowl that covers the engine was missing nuts, and one was cross-threaded and abused badly by a torque driver. But I don’t know who did it, so who is to blame? Haven’t a clue, but there are only three shops in this tale, Maple Hill, Adam’s, and the place where it sits now.

So then this morning I call Hyundai and I relate the tale to the rep, updating with my misgivings about which gasket really is the problem, and that I want proof that it is either the valve cover gasket or the timing cover gasket, and that I don’t want my money back from the alternator fix, but I really want to prevent this from happening again because I want my car to work for me for a while longer if I can manage it. I relate the tale, and then when I mention Adam’s Towing and Service and the shop that will wash the engine block and run the dye test, the Hyundai rep stops me and tells me that I can stop right there. Hyundai refuses to honor any warranty, expressly or implicitly formed because I took my vehicle to an Independent Repair Facility. So, go back to the pin I mentioned about the momentous choice I made. I was stranded on the highway, no warranty from Hyundai, no clue it was the gasket, and so because I didn’t push the vehicle to a Hyundai dealership, I’m quite shit out of luck.

So that’s the end of it. Hyundai walks away, from a service campaign that they botched, maybe, how can anyone tell? Nobody but the IRF even mentioned cleaning the engine and running a dye test! And what burns the most is that while I was regaling the Hyundai Corporate Rep with my tale of suffering, she searches for a Hyundai dealer in Chesterton, Indiana. Norris Hyundai. She then proceeds to waggle this Hyundai dealers location in my face, over the phone. If only I had pushed my dead 2000 pound Santa Fe to Norris Hyundai, then maybe Hyundai would talk to me. But because I was in the middle of the dark, with a dead car, work on Monday, and all the other stress, that I didn’t search for Norris and I didn’t PUSH MY CAR THERE, that there is nothing left to talk about and that I should have a nice day.

So I am done with Hyundai. I am done with the brand; I’m done with Maple Hill. There is no point in calling Fox Hyundai or Norris Hyundai, or anyone else. Hyundai only has one thought, and that is to hide in their fine print and treat me with such disrespect that it takes my breath away. They have no interest in their customers, no interest in repairing what is their fault. So I’m going to find out since it doesn’t matter now, I’m throwing in all the way with my new repair shop. This fellow will wash the side of the engine block, add the dye, and give me an authoritative answer as to which gasket is leaking. And then I’ll face the question of what to do from that point forward. It will answer the question, is it the timing cover gasket or the valve cover gasket? And if it is the valve cover, I might pay to have this new fellow do the work.

It is clear to me that Hyundai is uninterested in being human to me. They want to be a company, and that is their prerogative. It is my choice to associate with humans or companies, and I make my choices based on what I perceive to be the humanity of whom I am dealing with. Hyundai hides behind their fine print and their rules. That’s perfectly fine. I don’t want anything to do with a company like that. And if that means that I burn all the bridges to all the automakers in my life, then so be it. I have to make a stand, and I will live with the consequences. I will fucking walk if I have to. This deep violation of the Golden Rule is so upsetting to me that I cannot even see straight, so that’s fine Hyundai, hide behind your fine print and your rules and utterly fail to treat others as you would have them treat you.

There is a place in hell for you, and the punishment for a company is expressed regarding karma. You deserve what you get.

PAD 10-25-2013: Best Foot Forward

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PAD 10-25-2013
Daily Prompt: Simply the Best

NASA is building a new Voyager spacecraft that will carry the best of modern human culture. What belongs onboard?

In earlier treatments the best of the best was selected by Carl Sagan and others in the community that built the Voyager vehicles. They elected to place everything on a gold record and affix that to the vehicle, encoded like a vinyl record would be, only made of gold so it would be durable. I don’t see any reason why that can’t be maintained as the best way of encoding information about us, except I don’t know if even golds durability in space is long enough for the vehicle to be received. If you send a message with no hope of it ever being received, then sending the message is pointless. Then again, when you don’t know, that’s when faith comes in, we have to have faith that whatever vehicle we use can endure and that there is someone out there interested.

So then, what to include? I would think that the best treatment would be an exploration of human rationality, our wits, first and foremost. These could be encoded as three core sequences of numbers. The first step is to establish a primer, so that we can be understood. The best primer? The Periodic Table of Elements. Everything in the observable universe is made up of these elements, so starting the primer here makes universal sense. We can make use of this table as a multidimensional primer. It can be used to cover mathematics, counting, chemistry, and physics. It would necessarily have to be elaborate, showing numbers associated with actual elements, what their electron configurations resemble and also include how some of the heavier ones break up into lighter ones so we can demonstrate our knowledge of the weak force of nuclear fission. With that we could cover all the basics and demonstrate that we understand how to annihilate ourselves but instead elected to communicate – which goes farther than at first glance. We would also need to involve the concept of time in the primer, so the best way to do that would be a scale model of our solar system illustrated with how long it takes light to reach our planet from our star. Since we’ve covered numbers and counting already, this would be an easy expansion, plus any receiver would necessarily already be expecting this sort of communication. The next step is to demonstrate ever increasing levels of understanding. The best first step would be the sequence of all positive integer primes from 1 to 100. Then the next sequence would be Fibbonacci’s, showing how the sequence asymptotically approaches the value of Phi and then as a callout from this, demonstrate our architecture which features this value, The Golden Mean, appears also in other lifeforms on Earth such as the disc of a sunflower and a Nautilus shell. Finally we’d demonstrate Pi, say to 100 decimal places and show that we understand shapes and relationships.

Once we have covered the primer and a demonstration of comprehension through mathematics, it would be in our best interest to follow what Carl Sagan pioneered, having recorded human voices offering greetings. It would also be best to feature replicas of our best artistic works, so a replica of the Mona Lisa, something from Van Gogh, a Renoir, and a Picasso would be great to show we understand reality and metaphor. The next section would be music, and that should be reproductions of Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, and Tchaikovsky.

I’m split on wether or not it makes any sense to include religious works on this disc. The goal of any communication is to build rapport and it may be difficult to make a good first impression if we even touch on the numerous ways we have fractionalized each other and splintered into violent groups. You don’t ever want to put your psychotic lunatic foot forward when trying to represent humanity. Yes we are a deeply troubled and damaged species but for all the nightmares we are capable of, we are also capable of great beauty. It would be best to leave much of the negative things as brief footnotes to the codex we send into space. It would be unfair to the recipient to pose as a cultured and enlightened species when we are most certainly not either of those things. We should emphasize our skills and the best parts of us and send that out, with a warning that we are en-masse rather herd-like, prone to erratic behavior and trampling.

Funny that it isn’t until you think through all the conditions that you arrive at the inescapable conclusion that Earth ought to be quarantined until we stop being an infantile species. Perhaps we shouldn’t send any more of these vehicles into space, perhaps that’s the best way to put our foot forward, by not doing so at all. Hrm. Then again, if we do share the very best of us to the rest of the Universe they’ll eventually investigate us and listen to all the signals pouring out of our planet and be able to see exactly what would be in store for them during First Contact.

And that may have already come to pass. We may have already been noticed and placed in quarantine and we just don’t know it.

WIL WHEATON dot TUMBLR, So any journalist passing through London’s Heathrow has now been warned: do not take any documents with you. Britain is now a police state when it comes to journalists, just like Russia is.

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WIL WHEATON dot TUMBLR, So any journalist passing through London’s Heathrow has now been warned: do not take any documents with you. Britain is now a police state when it comes to journalists, just like Russia is..

This post by Wil Wheaton is a really great reminder that when you are traveling, and I wouldn’t necessarily just put this as international to Britain but even when visiting the next town or crossing state lines even. Rights are being trampled everywhere you go, wether it be from a out-of-control cop, a bloodthirsty Sheriffs deputy or even a sticky-fingered TSA agent there is no lack of potential thugs, enemies, and thieves in your midst.

There are ways to secure your data and keep it handy as well. Store everything in an encrypted disk image or TrueCrypt archive on a cloud service like Dropbox or Google Drive and duplicate the same things in your memory sticks. If the thugs take your devices then you can rest assured that all you lost was the material itself, but no content.

I’m surprised that journalists and people who know journalists don’t all use GPG to secure their communications. I would think that if you were a whistleblower or had contact with a whistleblower that these little checkboxes would be foremost on your mind and already checked off.

You can’t trust any government, any cop, or any Vampire to keep their word. This goes for everyone as well, including your carrier and service providers. What should Verizon know? Shit. How about Dropbox? The same. Trust nobody and you’ll be safer than someone who trusted someone else. Trust is earned and right now, very very few people have it.

Bell’s Eccentric Cafe, or Nooooope.

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Ever since I arrived in Kalamazoo all those years ago I’ve always noticed this blight on East Kalamazoo Ave as you approach the downtown region. Oh God No, what the hell is that?!? Turns out it’s Bell’s Brewery. It looks like an abandoned industrial ruin, fences, the hint of brewing tanks behind filthy windows, serviced by a incredibly tiny parking lot which is marked for company use only. It’s strange because there is a big yellow sign advertising things that sound like musical acts. So there has to be an inside, obviously. It’s the dead last place I ever wanted to go mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to approach it. The outside looks awful, it’s filthy, barbed wire fences, no parking at all, and East Kalamazoo is a one way, so if you miss it, well, screw you, you’re shit out of luck.

Years went by, I assumed that there was something there, but seeing Bell’s from the outside I always figured it was a dive. A nasty wretched filthy dive. Then I started hearing about how Bell’s is supposed to be this incredible world-renowned microbrewery. Family members ask about it, where I am in relationship to Comstock, MI. It’s, uh, I suppose a town, it’s just down the street. I assume it’s a town at least. I’ve been there a few times, it strikes me as being sparser than Cortland, New York and that’s embarrassingly sparse. Oh look, they have an intersection, yay.

Then out of curiosity I bought a six pack of Two Hearted Ale thinking it was rated very highly, so why not give it a shot? Oh my god. It was the first time I hate-drank a six pack. I couldn’t endure the notion that I had wasted money on that swill (oh, and god, was it awful, unpleasant is a huge understatement) and so I put Bell’s, and all it’s delightful whatever in the list of “Maybe someday, if I find the Wardrobe to Narnia…” and it became just another blighted eyesore that contributes to the general dilapidation that is downtown Kalamazoo. It needs a good solid tornado to improve.

So, years go by and I don’t think of Bell’s at all. Every once in a while people mention meeting people at Bell’s and I always ask “Does it have an inside? I mean, something you can go into?” and they look at me funny and assume that I’m being intentionally odd. No people! I don’t think it HAS an inside! Not for people at least! And I let it lapse. Wondering whats beyond the Wardrobe to Narnia occurs to me every time I pass it heading to work on East Kalamazoo.

Anyways, between a lot of not-thinking-about-Bells and now I joined a cycling group that heads out all over the northeast part of Kalamazoo every Tuesday. A nice bunch of people, I don’t know any of them at all, but nice enough. I get my exercise in, I get a path to follow, and I get people to bike with, at least in general. After the biking they customarily go to Bell’s for beer. Cue the double-take. People who have… wait for it… **been inside**. It’s like spotting Mr. Tumnas for the first time and expecting to hear a bleat and the clickety-clack of little hooves. So today we were headed up to Gull Lake, sort of, and then back. I got home, fed my cats and then got my license and my bank card and headed out. I asked Google Maps to get me to Bell’s, thinking that it might lead me to the Wardrobe (baaah), no, not really. I ended up standing in a lot too tiny for my big SUV, festooned with industrial debris, you know, the “No way this is habitable for human beings” itty-bitty parking lot. Not for customers. I seriously doubted, even at this point, that there were customers at all. I mean, Narnia folks, Baaaah. So I turned down the next street and figured that the Wardrobe might be on the other side. But there is nothing on the other side but ugly train tracks, mostly a nasty railyard which serves the most annoying feature of Kalamazoo. A train runs through it. Annoyingly so, and poorly too. Amtrak. Yay for sitting in piss, but I digress. There is nothing back there but rotten out abandoned warehouses, potholes, the saddest field of brickwork that used to be the street, it pokes through sadly every once in a while, when the rotten out asphalt just can’t hack the punishment. That’s it! It’s just rail controls, street crossing barricades, brownfield, debris, urban decay… oh my fucking god, it’s the god damn Wardrobe to Narnia! There it is. It’s a parking lot, bigger than you think, but not marked, so maybe you’re going to be towed, maybe you aren’t. Is it for employees? Are there employees? This whole time I seriously doubted this was a real place. I honestly figured Bell’s had grown softheaded and thought that maybe the train-that-doesn’t-run-through-here-anymore may pick up kegs of their beer. Sort of like a really depressing alcoholic Polar Express. If you look very carefully, and you walk around the building you see the entrance and, well, there I stood. 15 years of living in this wretched place and I finally found the fucking entrance to a place I thought was a local urban legend. Bell’s Eccentric Cafe. Oh, hello Mr. Tumnas. Nice seeing you! Baaaah!

I wasn’t dressed for this place. I was hot and sweaty and I looked kind of disheveled. I had talked myself into going even though I don’t really have the money to spend and the gasoline I burned up getting there was a very tiny black cloud hanging over my head. The people pouring out were brightly dressed, tourists, hipster trash, and downtown people. Even walking up I felt awkward. Then I entered. There was a gentleman sitting by the entrance and he looked at me and I glanced at him. I thought it was strange that he was just sitting there, and since I didn’t think anything about it, I just walked right past him. Turns out, maybe, he was a door something or other checking patrons licenses, at least that’s the gist I got when I turned around on my way out. He didn’t seem to be important, just kind of “this guy by the door”. Honestly the thought was that maybe he was using his phone, or something else, but that I should have approached him wasn’t even anywhere in my head.

Then it hit me as I looked around. It was several things all at once, actually. There was this overwhelming social anxiety – I knew absolutely nobody at all. I didn’t know the shape of the interior, and I walked past what appeared to be a beer hall and then further down to a door that didn’t appear to be for customers, and on my way back, I happened to notice a beer garden patio on the other side. I peered through the window and saw elderly people and strangers. Giant swaths of strangers, strange faces… then I felt an overwhelming urge to escape. I had to go. I didn’t have the money, I didn’t know if the biking group that I was supposedly going to join were actually there, and even if I did, I only know the owner of the establishment and only just first names. I was weighing everything and I felt like I really didn’t belong there. I was woefully under-dressed, I was running a risk of drinking beer on a empty stomach which would have really complicated my trip back home, plus the notion that I wasn’t going to really get out of there without spending $30 to $50 for beer I don’t really care for and people I don’t know in a building that really might have been Narnia. Baaaah!

I’m not a bar person. I really don’t like big group things surrounded by strangers, and I only put up with those situations because I don’t want to be that guy that clogs up the works for everyone else when they want to have fun – but it’s never really fun for me. It’s expensive. It’s nasty. It’s dirty. It’s smelly. Oh god, I’d rather just flee. And so I did. I fled from Bell’s. I didn’t have the heart to even make eye contact with the guy at the front door. Maybe he was a bouncer, maybe he wasn’t, maybe he was just sitting there – who the hell knows? Exit was the only thing I wanted and I walked back to my car, cursing the burnt fuel to get me to this boondoggle of an experience and thankful that I decided against “making the best of it” and staying. It would have been really awkward. Throw alcohol on top of awkward and I might as well be an albatross. Squawk!

So, I’ve been to Bell’s, er, Narnia. Yes, it’s probably a nice place. I’m sure it’s wonderful and I’m sure I am missing out on something, but in the end, I’m okay with that. People who like beer seem to regard it highly, and also in that, good for them. I don’t think it’s for me. 15 years and finding it finally has scratched off an item on my “Whatevs” list, so for that, a tepid yeh.

I can’t really afford the place. I can’t afford their beer. I can’t afford the gasoline it takes to get there and back and I don’t know a soul in the place. So, we’ve learned where the Wardrobe is and at least now I know it’s not for me. At least I can go back to my comfortable notions of before, that it’s just a run-down industrial pit and there is nothing on the other side but filthy blighted railroad.

Baaah.

Saturday Express

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What a wonderful day it has been so far! I woke up, had my customary oatmeal breakfast and then after some puttering around the house I got into my bike outfit (not anything specifically bike-outfitty, just some UnderArmour gear that helps) and hit the road. The entire plan was to take care of the light-mass errands all by bike. That meant hitting KL Cat Hospital for Griffin’s special food and then Pets Supplies Plus for Owein’s special food. I also wanted a handlebar case for my iPhone so I didn’t have to carry it around in my pocket all the time; I’m always afraid that my pocket will empty my phone out onto the ground and make me a very sad geek. I was able to find what I was after not at Dicks, which I half expected I should, instead they opened without all their product being placed properly. Dicks also irked me, I had to secure my bike to a local tree. It’s not something that’s an outrage, but if you are selling sporting goods, wouldn’t a simple hum-drum bike rack out in front be a nice touch? Alas, I didn’t find what I was after. I did find a lot of UnderArmour, of course, but I have no money for such frivolities and I honestly don’t need any more clothes. Between my Doc Martin Chukkas, which I can boldly say are my favorite pair of shoes that I’ve ever owned, and the recent acquisition of all my bow ties I don’t think I’ll need any more additions to my wardrobe for a long while.

On my journey I used several apps on my iPhone which worked very well together. The central fitness app I use is MyFitnessPal. This app works really well with my FitBit, but there isn’t any integration with MapMyRide yet, so when you want to cross-log your efforts in apps you need to have three bits of information, the time you started, the duration and the number of calories that you burned. Irritatingly enough, the MapMyRide app will only give out duration and calories but not start time. I searched high and low throughout the App Store looking for a time logging app and found one good enough in TimeKeeper. I can start it, tap the title, then tap Biking and it’ll take a timestamp for me without me having to muck about with Siri. She doesn’t understand the phrase “Siri, mark the time.” So, irritating. Once I get all the data going I use MapMyRide to trace my biking performance, MyFitnessPal to track my calorie availability and manage what I can eat, and then last but not least, Google Maps. Google Maps has a biking mode and turn by turn directions which work really well when I’m on the road.

Biking around can be dull but I have another app on my iPhone that I use called Downcast that downloads and streams Podcasts over my phone so I can listen to original programming while I work out, going from one place to another. I’m currently listening to only three podcasts, “A Way With Words”, “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me”, and “RadioLab”. I have to say that I enjoy all of them immensely and the player is good enough to stream one episode back to back with the next so I don’t really have to fiddle with my phone much at all.

The only thing I would change is that I would bring battery backup for my phone next time. I was glad that Culvers had power plugs by the dining tables and I was able to get a wee charge from them while I had lunch, but that’s not something I should plan on – I need to prepare some sort of backup power deal when I go out biking.

So now, after lunch, which I splurged on (allowed myself french fries, which are my guilty pleasure) I’m at home, recovering from the 32 mile bike adventure. After this, I think I’ll head out and get the rest of the supplies, which entails a trip to Meijers. I may stop at Chocolatea for something not quite unlike Green Tea. 🙂

Wine Tasting Notes for 2013 Traverse City Tour

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Chateau Chantal

Bob Flight –

* Chardonnay – watery and acidic 70
* PR Chardonnay – wee butter, weakly Oaked 78
* Pinot Noir – fertilizer – basic taste uh 60 color is brown
* PR Pinot Noir – burnt sugar n slightly better 76 color is brown
* PR Trio – nasty n bacon wrapped in rotten leather. Taste is okay. 78
* PR Cab Franc – toffee coffee n early tannic pack, lame on follow through 78

Laurentide

* 11 Chardonnay – lemon and lime with light pear notes 84
* 11 Sauvignon Blanc – funky and sour nose, urinal ammonia taste, weak lemonade notes 70
* 11 Emergence white – very light burnt wood scent with a strong lime note low acid 84
* 10 Pinot noir – plaster and drywall dust nose dry with a sandy talc grip 85

Verterra

* Pinot noir 11 – curt with a nose of urinal puck 85
* Reserve red 11 – excellent development 89 great long finish

2lads

* 11 sparkling Pinot Grigio – bubbles and heat 78
* 11 Pinot noir – alcohol raspberries and strawberries n great lasting power on the palate 89
* 11 Pinot noir cuvée Beatrice – vinyl and leather n quite late on the palate 90
* 11 cab franc merlot – blackberry and raspberries 88

CGT

* Laika gruner veltliner – dry 84
* 11 barrel fermented Chardonnay – floral hibiscus. Spicy warm post palate 88
* 11 gamay noir – bubblegum nose tart cherry velvety mouthfeel 89
* 11 silhouette red wine – punchy tannins 88 nice acid
* 11 edelzwicker – melon canteloupe n funky 72
* 12 late harvest Chardonnay – pear n champagne bite and nicely sweet 85

Bowers Harbor

* Rose – simple 82
* Pinot Grigio – nice nose 84
* Wooded Chardonnay – 86
* Pinot Noir wind whistle – burnt sugar caramel n delightful finish and very tight and high tannic package 90
* Claret – raspberry and blackberry on the nose – super tight tannins. 88

Black Star Farms

* 2012 arcturos Pinot noir rose – acid 87
* 2011 arcturos barrel aged Chardonnay – caramel on the nose butter and oak with notes of caramel and apples and pears. 89
* 2011 arcturos Pinot noir – maple syrup on the nose , buttery and spicy, 90
* 2010 vintners select – spicy 89
* 2011 arcturos Cabernet franc – harsh and tannic 85

Brys Estates

* 12 Pinot Blanc pear with lime chasing it 88
* 12 naked Chardonnay – coconut and pear 87
* 11 Pinot noir – lingering spice, velvety smoothness 90
* 11 cab/merlot – half sour pickles pepperoni salami n – smooth and chewy 91
* 11 merlot – sour cherries 87
* 12 Riesling/Gris – strawberries and cherries 87
* 12 Pinot noir/Riesling – sweet with a shine of sour chasing it around 84

Hawthorne

* Pinot Grigio – light n pear and bright spicy flash 86
* 10 barrel res Chardonnay – light nose light butter and apricots 88
* 12 rose – too clenchy 80
* 12 gamay noir – delicious nose quite good with spice and peppers 87
* 10 cab franc/merlot – 88

Bandinage in Robin Hood’s Barn

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HexedWow, what a long strange trip that was! I’ve got a lot of my amateur photography and I’ve been kicking around the notion of placing it all on my host and sharing it through my blog somehow. I started this sad trip with Pixelpost, then looked around for other LAMP scripts that could work after Pixelpost belly-flopped and died on impact. The issue I had with Pixelpost was trying to mass-import 218 pictures of my two cats. The software just couldn’t cope. So after a while trying to hammer a square peg in a round hole I just gave up altogether.

Then it struck me that I could use my WordPress blog maybe. I had a dim memory about something about Galleries. I can store as much as I like on my host and there’s no bandwidth issues so why not? So I did some reading in the Codex and well, there you go! Create a new Page, add Media, create a new Gallery and it’s EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED. Then I happened to notice JetPack and looked in there and it has Carousel feature which improves the standard Gallery control for WordPress. WOW! It was everything I wanted and it ate all 218 files without blinking and making new pages is a snap! Adding and removing pictures from the Galleries is just as easy.

So all that way and all that time blown out trying to get a weak system to behave itself and the answer was just under the covers in WordPress all along! I am exceptionally pleased. 🙂 Thanks all you wonderful ladies and gentlemen at Automattic! Thankee-sai!

You can find these galleries on the main menu of my Blog, under the title of Photo Galleries. I hope you enjoy them!

photo by: Nicholas_T

Louisiana, USA: GOP Rep Wants to Legalize Employment Discrimination Against Gays

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Louisiana, USA: GOP Rep Wants to Legalize Employment Discrimination Against Gays.

I’ve been to Louisiana. What value does it have? There is some economic concern there, as the Mississippi River empties there, it’s where a lot of gasoline is refined and shipped across the country. I doubt that would attract many people to that state, let alone gay people. What else does Louisiana have?

  • Deep South – Conservative Christian charm right up to their collective necks. What a delight!
  • Fire Ants – Their bites tickle.
  • Killer Bees – Their stings are simply nuzzles of love, with venom.
  • Hurricanes, oppressively hot weather, intense rain – Oh lordy! Hold me back! I gotta get me some of that action!
  • Delightful Inequality – I’m not really a person in that state, so hey, what does anything matter to a nobody like me?
  • Overwhelming Obesity in local population – Loving men is easier when they can’t leave the house because they can’t fit through the doorways. Need flour and a while to find wet spots.

All in all, I can see why everyone is beating a path to Louisiana to bask in their delightful wonderfulness.

Connecticut Gun Control Bill

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213. Only slow kids need play here.

I noticed in the endless stream of AP news items that Connecticut has passed a wide-ranging gun control bill that places important controls on gun ownership. I was looking for links to news stories and I refuse to link to Fox News, any New York City toilet rag, or the New York Times only because their links aren’t durable and so there is no point to link to them in a blog, historically the links just bellyflop years later. CNN articles from 2006? Good luck with that. So, Connecticut has new gun safety laws. This makes Connecticut more attractive option to migration for me. The law makes the state safer than the other states, and that opens up a new line of pressure for the states to decide on their gun laws. It’ll be less about personal liberties and the overworked 2nd Amendment and more about population dynamics and taxpayers. If all your taxpayers decide to move to a state where their children won’t be shot randomly, then they will be paying taxes to that state and not the more dangerous ones. These bills could become new tools for state tourism authorities to promote their states when it comes to safety. “Come and visit Connecticut, we are safer.” If it becomes an actual population pressure, then I bet more states will start adopting gun control laws in order to retain their populations. The only thing that a state really fears is negative migration. Perhaps it’s time to stop talking about guns, ammunition and magazines and start talking about public safety issues. It’s subterfuge of course, but really it’s not. It’s got more to do with living children than dead ones.

The image of a dead toddler is the one thing that the NRA cannot blot out. That image sears itself into anyone who looks on it. All your arguments mean nothing when launched over a 3 foot long coffin! It’s a wretched commentary on American life that it takes dead children to force adults to cut the shit and take things like guns seriously.

These aren’t fun little toys, they are tools of death.

Burning Sage

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Holy Pickled Pomegranate Batman !I just received my invitation to attend Sage Summit 2013 in Washington, DC from July 23rd to the 26th at Gaylord National Hotel and Resort.

Since Sage dropped the hot potatoes it was juggling, this yearly pilgrimage is now utterly laughable and irrelevant. Not only will I not go to Washington, DC in the pit of Summer but I will definitely not be going to another Gaylord property. Those “resorts”, especially the abomination in Nashville Tennessee is a crime against humanity and an insult against nature.

My “most favored thing” today that I will do is to click the Unsubscribe button to all Sage communications. My interest drops like wet trousers around the ankles of my professional disgust. Tootles!

photo by: recubejim